Janne Robinson states “I take slabs of my heart and write about it”.
So when you take a slab of it for yourself, don’t expect a blogger not to express the outcome.
… Realising I’ll forever be single now I’ve stated that.
Ah here I am again, in what was promised the fun and enthralling world of dating, only to be let down heavily after having dated yet another boy posing as a man.
Image from google Symchych Maria
The thing about when we date is the majority of us will twist the truth.
We select the finest array of mesmerising pictures that hopefully don’t get recognised as an golden olden back from 2015 when we were at our skinniest and had less of a damaged complexion.
We each try and compile ourselves to be the best version of us, without the cautionary warnings of the bad that comes with that as part of the package, because we all want to be desired not contemplated.
We write down bio’s that are hardly 100% true, we elaborate on what “best describes us”, we ask phoney questions, memorise a few paragraphs of what makes us sound amazing or make small talk when we actually don’t really care.
But, what we do care about is the attention however.
No one can deny when you get that guy or girl looking at you purposefully on a night out, that you’re flattered and feel on you’re a game.
Or when you wake up to bumble exclaiming with excitement that you have 3 new matches.
It’s that quick solution of attention we crave that deprives us from the long term self-investment of our worth we really need to focus on.
Realising I’m just another human in the dating line to wanting to be happy, I’ve been faced with the facts that I need to try and work on not needing anyone for that step towards happiness.
Having been on and off single for most of this year after my big break-up, I thought I mastered it through the independent periods of my life.
But as soon as I ever get a new love interest, I realise my inner peace is far from ready to devote myself to a relationship and my true colours show.
I desperately devote my whole time and energy into wanting to provide for them what it is they could have with me.
I go 100 miles per hour to make sure I have free evenings, days, I put them over friends because I’m terrified they will lose interest quickly or have someone else lined up after me.
I plan adorable dates and do lots of sentimental, small gestures to prove to them I’m worthy and a catch, when the only person that should ever be allowed to remotely judge that on a scale, is…
Contrary to this, I’m also no angel.
I hold this guard up that is abruptly stacked with loose brickwork, I put on a face that I don’t care and I’m okay regardless of the outcome, when my mind set is the complete opposite and I always assume the worst of them, unless I get the reassurance that I’m still in the front of your mind, and this is all because I haven’t allowed myself to feel comfortable with being single, or realised how good I am as a person and what I have to offer myself, let alone you.
So, quick review from the recent split.
It was a fling with much more promised, however, I wasn’t ready, and he most certaintly wasn’t ready- but he kept me an option because I made him feel good.
He was great at the start, and yeah, I thought the world of him when we were good, but a lot of things indicated that we were pretty much doomed from day one romantically.
I was basically a contemplating thought of what sandwich he wanted from one day to another, a fucking sandwich.
With this in mind I tried my ultimate best to be the finest brioche bun, filled with truffle jam and the fattest most divinely cooked steak slice.
But, undoubtably in his eyes I was an average ham and mustard white bread base. Sometimes worth the craving, but usually sits in deaths row of competing with the hearty chicken and avocado seeded goodness and the mouth watering bacon and fresh egg deluxe.
Calling out my undamaged ego, until the point he said – quote “You’re growing on me”, making it nothing but damaged, I realised this was something I have never been to someone before, but trust me, my anxiety had a field day with the concept and continued to allow myself to turn slightly crazy.
Down to the purpose of this post
What I love the most about the fact I haven’t dated a real man (since my ex) is the empowering satisfaction they give me when they assume my world has crumbled because they are no longer a part of it.
The assumption I’m incomplete or feeling lost without them, when actually its quite the opposite, bemuses me.
You see, when you date a girl and mess her about with what she is to you, a girl who may not fully know her worth but doesn’t put up with morons, that’s when you turn all that sweetness, sympathy and humble, spirited care that she devoted her time to giving you into this magical vocalised energy of sass.
(Or you give them brain fuel for their next blog, as Beyonce sung it – “I ain’t sorry.)
You relight the woman that she has always been with a thousand fires she continues to walk through.
You help her reprogram herself to settle for nothing less than quite amazing, which when she re-evaluates you, she is faced with the smug comprehension that you were so tantalising, she accidentally placed you at the Robin Hood’s end of the spectrum, when in daylight, you deserve a spot next to Hades.
MEN continue to be this mystical creature awaiting captivity for me at the moment.
However, the world is in-undated with boys.
So, I’ll take this one on the chin and just thank the heavens I’m able to notice that MOST (not all) boys are like doughnuts-
They appear irresistible and perfectly harmless, but if you had a high dosage of them, you’d question if they’re really all that good for your health.
What goes around comes back around.
Bon débarras 😉